


ride for you

by vintagedean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagedean/pseuds/vintagedean
Summary: He’s gone an hour later, headed for the bus stop. Dean barely waits for Sam to close the door behind him before he’s jumping off the couch and taking off his shirt.John snorts from where he’s sitting at the kitchenette table. “Eager?”Dean doesn’t bother hiding it. He stands before John, pants undone, nipples bared. “Yes.”John looks up at him and swallows. He hooks his index fingers into Dean’s belt loops and tugs him forward. “Want you in my mouth, boy.”Dean nods, jutting his hips forward.If someone had told Dean there’d come a time when he’d have his ex-Marine father reverently pulling his dick out of his boxers and jeans, he’d have laughed aloud and started looking for hex bags. But here he was, seventeen years old, in that exact position. Had been repeatedly for just under a year now, ever since he’d first offered himself to John after a hunt gone bad, and found himself shocked when John didn’t turn him away.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/John Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	ride for you

**Author's Note:**

> fill for this tumblr prompt: "established relationship, 17 or 18 y/o Dean being incredibly horny for John, like, for the fact that it’s Dad he’s fucking, and having a size!kink while riding John and just slutty Dean, pretty please."
> 
> find me on tumblr: @vintagedean
> 
> title taken from a lana song bc honestly she's the supreme daddycest mood.

“Come _on_ , Dad!” Sam screams at John across the motel room. 

“Watch your tone, Sam,” John yells back.

For his part, Dean’s been watching them argue for the last fifteen minutes from his spot on the couch where he’d been trying to finish _Slaughterhouse-Five_ for lit class on Monday. But Sam had brought up the last-minute invite he’d gotten to stay the night at a friend’s, and John, of course, didn’t want Sam out with strangers. They’ve been screaming themselves hoarse over it, and Dean’s been waiting for a single second of quiet to jump in and break it up. If he chimes in too soon, John’ll turn around and start yelling at him, too, which would ruin his own plans for the evening. But if he lets the fight go for too long, Sam will lose whatever slim chance he started with of having John say yes, and that’ll ruin Dean’s plans too.

Finally, they both stop to catch their breath, and Dean snatches the moment to jump from the couch and get in between them. He looks at Sam. “Dude, go chill out in our room.”

“Stay out of it, Dean,” Sam snaps at him, and Dean raises an eye. 

Sam catches his drift pretty quick. He’s still pissed, but he does what Dean asks and storms off into their shared room. 

Dean waits for the door to close before he rounds on John. 

“What,” John says, looking at Dean sideways and angry as shit. 

Dean walks up to him, slipping his hands under John’s button down shirt. “I already vetted the family,” he says quietly, knowing where John’s concerns lie. “Sammy’s been hanging out with the kid for almost a month. I started background checking the parents two weeks ago.” He kisses John’s cheek softly. “He’ll be okay.”

“Don’t fucking tell me how to raise my own son,” John snaps, but he’s melting against Dean all the same. 

“Never, Dad,” Dean whispers against John’s clavicle. “I just got caught up thinking about having the place to ourselves tonight. It’s been a while.”

John sighs at that. Dean feels the heave of his chest as he lets out his breath. He’s tired. He’s been hunting non-stop, leaving Dean with Sam for long stretches of time. Dean doesn’t mind. He loves Sam, loves the time they have together. But he misses getting fucked. 

He turns around, so his back is to John’s front. Then he takes one of John’s hands and places it around his throat. John’s fingers close gently, automatically. His free hand slides down the front of Dean’s jeans. Dean’s eyes close, and he grinds himself back against John, feeling the growing swell of his cock through his pants. He leans his head back over John’s shoulder, arching his throat like he knows John likes. His father’s hand tightens slightly around his throat. 

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Dad?”

The hand rubbing his dick through his boxers presses more firmly against him, too. Dean decides to take that as a yes. 

After another moment, John slips his hand back out of Dean’s pants and lets go of his throat. “Go tell him,” he says gruffly to Dean. 

Dean turns back around to kiss John again, this time on the lips. “Yes, sir.”

Sam is overjoyed. 

“Dude, how do you always get him to say yes?”

Dean scoffs. “I don’t. But I ran background checks on kid’s family ages ago. Made it an easy sell.”

“Dean!” says Sam, suddenly affronted. “Mind your own business.”

“You are my business,” counters Dean. “And it’s why you get to call him up and say you’re coming over, so you should be fucking thanking me.”

Sam smiles then, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Thanks, Dean.”

“Anytime, bitch.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Fuck off, jerk.”

He’s gone an hour later, headed for the bus stop. Dean barely waits for Sam to close the door behind him before he’s jumping off the couch and taking off his shirt. 

John snorts from where he’s sitting at the kitchenette table. “Eager?”

Dean doesn’t bother hiding it. He stands before John, pants undone, nipples bared. “Yes.”

John looks up at him and swallows. He hooks his index fingers into Dean’s belt loops and tugs him forward. “Want you in my mouth, boy.”

Dean nods, jutting his hips forward. 

If someone had told Dean there’d come a time when he’d have his ex-Marine father reverently pulling his dick out of his boxers and jeans, he’d have laughed aloud and started looking for hex bags. But here he was, seventeen years old, in that exact position. Had been repeatedly for just under a year now, ever since he’d first offered himself to John after a hunt gone bad, and found himself shocked when John didn’t turn him away. 

He watches now as John kisses his cock from root to tip before taking the head into his mouth. Dean groans, wrapping his arms behind John’s head. He fucks into John’s mouth slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him too fast. Not wanting to come so soon. 

“Daddy,” he murmurs, and is rewarded with a hum of contentment around his dick. 

They both get off on it, the _D_ _addy_ thing. Dean hadn’t known what to call John at first. _Dad_ felt okay, almost too casual for the intensity between them. _John_ felt better, made Dean feel like more of a man for being able to say it when they fucked. But then one night, John had been buried to the hilt inside his son, and had stuttered out a nervous, _Call me Daddy_ , and something had just clicked. Dean said it for the first time and felt something unzip within him. 

Naming who was doing this to him, who was inside him, who was spilling his seed within him—that was the ticket. _Daddy, Daddy, Daddy_. 

There’s a tap at his hip that tells him John’s trying to ease off. Dean stops his gentle thrusting, pulling out of John’s mouth instead. 

“Want to be inside you,” says John as he licks a bead of precum off of his lower lip. 

Dean takes John’s hand and pulls him from the chair. He guides him over to John’s bed where he finishes undressing. John gets naked, too, quickly. Dean notes the urgency, feeling it himself as he gets on all fours on the bed. 

“Like you just like this,” John purrs, climbing on the bed himself. “Ass in the air, ready for me.”

“Then get on with it,” says Dean, pushing back against John. He feels like he’s been waiting forever. He reaches over the bed to grab John’s duffle, not interested in waiting for John to do it himself, and roots around for the lube. He grabs it, hands it to his father, and then settles back into position.

He can hear John open the bottle and squeeze out some lube. Can hear him warm it between his hands before he puts it on his cock. At the first press of a finger, Dean falls onto his elbows. He closes his eyes at the sensation of being worked open and rests his forehead on the bed. God, his dad is good at this. 

“I’m ready,” he whines after a few more minutes. “Want you, Dad.”

John leans over Dean to murmur in his ear, “Don’t want my big cock to hurt my boy.”

Dean shivers. John has a point. He’s fucking _huge_ , and they’ve both learned from experience that if John doesn’t prep him fully, it’s not a very good time for anyone. 

“Fine,” Dean grits out. “Just been thinking about this all day.”

“Then tell me about it.” His fingers are back in Dean’s hole.

Dean clenches around John, just to be difficult. “Been thinking about your cock,” he says, relaxing his hole again. “Been thinking about sitting in Daddy’s lap and riding you.”

John presses just a little further inside and finds Dean’s prostate. “Oh, is that how you want it, baby?”

Dean bucks back involuntarily, trying for more pressure. “Want you to see my face,” he gasps. “See my face when I’m stretched over you.”

“Okay,” John says. “Okay, baby, sit up.” His fingers slip out of Dean, allowing him to move. 

Dean pushes himself up on his knees and waits for John to sit himself in front of him. John settles on the creaky mattress, spreading his legs so Dean can shuffle between them. He crowds John, then, fisting his cock as he kisses him. “Need you, Dad,” he whispers against him.

“You have me,” John whispers back. “Now get in my lap. 

It takes a bit of team work for Dean to get in position. He rests his legs over John’s thighs so they’re sitting cock to cock, and then leans back on his arms to raise his hips up. This makes it so John can position his cock under Dean’s hole, holding himself steady as Dean slowly lowers himself onto his father. He has to seat himself slowly so John’s girth doesn’t hurt, and even then there’s a wave of initial discomfort. 

“So fucking big, John.”

“I know. Go slow.”

Though it doesn’t feel good yet, Dean knows he could never get this from anyone else. The stretch of his hole around John has ruined him for any other cock, discomfort be damned. 

“ _Fuck_ , Dad, you’re filling me up so full.”

When he’s seated fully, Dean has to pause. He looks at John through half-lidded eyes and rests his forehead against his father’s. 

“Is it too much?” John asks quietly, still worried a year and countless number of fucks later that he’s hurting Dean. 

But sometimes it just hits Dean who he’s doing this with. That his father, the man who _made_ him, is now tucked up into his most secret part. That he’s going to _fuck_ Dean, _make love_ to Dean, and come inside him. His father is going to do with him what he did with Dean’s own mother, and the power of that fact is sometimes the thing that is too much, but in the best possible way. 

But Dean doesn’t know how to say that to John. That the overwhelming size of him inside Dean is just one part of what forces Dean to feel so good he has to mentally disappear for a moment to continue handling it. So he just brings his hands to either side of John’s face and presses his lips to John’s mouth. 

“No,” he finally says. “Fuck me.”

John moves immediately. He rocks forward and backward, giving Dean some time to match the rhythm. Once he’s got it, Dean starts bouncing in time, up when John rocks back and down when he rocks forward. John’s arms wrap around his back, forcing them closer together. 

It’s good. It’s _really_ good. Whatever discomfort Dean felt at the start has dissipated, as it always does, and all he’s left with is the pleasurable burn of John’s cock inside of him. Having thought about this all day, it doesn’t take long for Dean to realize he’s going to come a lot sooner than he expected. 

“Shit, I’m almost there.”

John scoffs. “Didn’t take you long.”

Dean smiles at him. “Good thing we have plenty of time tonight for you to fuck me again.”

John huffs at that. “That’s my boy.”

“Mm,” Dean groans. “Always your boy.”

“That’s right,” says John, rocking faster. “Always going to be your Daddy’s boy.”

He moves his hand to Dean’s cock, pumping it as he fucks into him. The contact is what does it; Dean lets his head fall into John’s shoulder and comes into his hand. He can feel a rope of it hit his stomach, and he wonders if he’s come on John’s too. 

“So good, Dean,” says John, repositioning them. He pushes gently at Dean until he lies down, and then moves onto his knees, staying inside his son. Then he grips Dean’s thighs and goes back to fucking into him in earnest. 

Dean watches him, reading the subtle changes in John’s expression that tell him his father is getting close. 

“Come inside me,” he urges. “Want to feel it inside me. Want to feel it make a mess when it spills out of my hole after.”

“ _Dean,_ ” John groans. “I’m going to—“

John collapses forward as his orgasm hits. His head lands on Dean’s chest, and Dean’s hands go immediately into his hair. 

“Love you,” Dean hears John whisper into his skin. 

“Love you, too,” Dean says back, sated and loose. 

He’s so damn glad he convinced John to let Sam have a night out.


End file.
